


A Lion with no Mane

by CockAsInTheBird



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Blood and Injury, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Love Confessions, M/M, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24334882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CockAsInTheBird/pseuds/CockAsInTheBird
Summary: There was no roar of the engine, no deafening music blasting out the windows, or dramatic entrance this morning.Billy stomps through the halls of Hawkins High, collar popped and shoulders raised, face hard and mean, daring anyone to fucking say a word. He pushes and shoves through the gawking crowd, their eyes blown wide in shock at the rough buzz cut that his dad had forced upon him this morning.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 4
Kudos: 123





	A Lion with no Mane

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to say again, that there's clear mentions and remarks of Neil Hargrove being an abusive asshole in this, please be safe when reading if you find this kind of content triggering
> 
> Labelled Mature because of blood

There was no roar of the engine, no deafening music blasting out the windows, or dramatic entrance this morning.

Billy stomps through the halls of Hawkins High, collar popped and shoulders raised, face hard and mean, daring anyone to fucking say a word. He pushes and shoves through the gawking crowd, their eyes blown wide in shock at the rough buzz cut that his dad had forced upon him this morning.

Neil caught Billy enjoying the view in his mirror again, and decided enough was enough, that he wasn't gonna have some _faggot_ strutting around in his house. And grabbed the trimmer.

It's rough and uneven, but not a single long curl left on his head.

And when Steve sees it he's... _terrified_ and _worried_. Eyes just as big as everyone else, mouth gaping, but his heart _stops beating_. He's convinced that Billy's going to beat him up; a way to blow off steam and relieve some of his justified anger in an unwarranted way. They were just starting to get along, finally comfortable enough to smile and laugh together, when his asshole dad had to go and ruin Billy's life more.

There's so much unbelievable pain in those ocean blues, life hanging on by a string there.

But Billy averts his gaze. He visibly turns his head away as he passes by Steve standing at his locker.

And that hurts just as well. A pang of the heart, like a needle piercing through with red hot heat. He's been beat up, broken up with, hunted by demo-dogs, yet this pain is by far the most intolerable one that Steve has had to suffer through so far.

But Steve's a fool in love. So he follows along the cleared path where students are quick to murmur and gossip as soon as Billy is out of sight.

Turns a corner just to see guys sprinting out from the bathrooms.

And he finds Billy alone, _trembling_ , knuckles turned white where he balls up his fists, shoulders still high and tense and he-

It sounds more like a bestial roar of madness, than that of a man brimming with rage, as he bares his teeth as wide as he can at his own reflection in the greasy mirror.

Then there's blood, as his fist collides with the glass and shatters it.

“Billy!” Steve's shocked to his very core.

“Go away...” There's no resemblance of aggravation in Billy's voice.

He turns his back to Steve, head hanging low and bleeding hand pulled to his chest. Every step he takes seems so uncertain and weak, as he slowly retreats further into the bathroom.

“Billy, please,” Steve speaks with the softness of angels, and he takes far longer steps.

“Steve,” his voice cracks and splinters. “I'm asking you to leave me alone.”

“I'm sorry Billy, but I cannot do that. You're hurt.”

Billy puts a hand to the tiles in the corner furthest away, fingertips digging in to the crevice between white. Tries to stay standing all he can, but his quivering knees give out, and he lands with a thud on the ground, hunched over.

“Fuck, Billy-” Steve runs to him and slides onto the floor.

He has absolutely no clue as for what to do, but he has never wanted to hug and hold another person more than now. And when he hears the first sob bumble out, his palm touches down on Billy's back that stutters with every breath.

And unsurprisingly, Billy flinches away from that touch.

Steve feels like a huge asshole immediately for having touched Billy without even considering... “I'm- I'm sorry Billy, I'm so so sorry, is there anything I can do? Anything at all?” He feels a knot strangle him, his heart so uncertain of _everything_.

“Don't...” Billy snivels, “Don't go...”

Every time Steve thinks his heart can't break any more for him, another piece gets chipped away. “I'm not leaving you. Ever, you hear me, Hargrove?” he tries for a smile, not that Billy can see the kind gesture. “I'll stay here with you for as long as you need me.”

It takes less than a second for him to finish talking, before Billy whips around and throws himself at Steve, knocking him on his back, Billy on top; crying and pressing his face deep into Steve's chest, soaking up his expensive polo with tears and blood.

And there's nothing else in the world to do, but for Steve to hold him. He wraps his arms around his shoulders and stares up at the ceiling, careful as to not accidentally touching his... his head. Fights to just stay quiet, say nothing and let Billy empty his lungs and tears all over his chest.

Even when the school bell rings, they stay like this. For several arduous minutes, they stay like this. And when Billy's lamenting turns to quiet weeping, they stay like this.

Steve never stopped holding him, continuously rubbing gentle circles into the back of the denim jacket, never pausing.

Billy takes a deep breath. “I hate my dad.”

“That's very understandable,” Steve responds quietly.

“I'm so... _unhappy_.”

“I know.”

“I can't go home, not after this...” Tears well up so easily now, and they spill onto the striped fabric again.

“Then don't.”

Billy huffs a dejected laugh. “And where would I go? I don't have anyone but my shithead dad.” His hand closes around the polo.

“That's not true – you can come stay with me. I've got plenty of space.” Steve doesn't even need to _think_ about that for a second.

And although he can't see it, he feels a smile form where Billy's pressed against his chest.

“Yeah? In that big haunted mansion of yours?” Billy feels... _pathetic_ , utterly worthless, completely devoid of value. But lying here on the floor with Steve, he could maybe feel... _hopeful_.

Steve smiles too. “Yeah, and don't worry, you'll have your own room, and we've got three bathrooms and a giant kitchen. There's space for you.”

 _There's space for me_ , the answer to a thought Billy hadn't had the courage to ask: _Will I be in the way?_

Silence falls on them after that, as Billy thinks thoroughly about what to say next, and Steve waits patiently for him to be ready, finger still brushing his back.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this? You don't have to be here...” And Billy's ready to burst into tears again as cruel thoughts bubble up from the tar that is his anxiety.

“Because I love you,” Steve says as if it's a well known fact to the world, as if he's said it before, _as if he means it_.

Billy has never turned his head this quickly before, angles it so that his chin rests on a pec, as he looks up at Steve.

Who in turn looks right back. Wide eyes, blue and wet, stares in disbelief, eyebrows curved like as if he has a question that he can't find words for.

“And when you love someone, you're willing to do absolutely anything for them.”

Being speechless doesn't come easy to one Billy Hargrove, but there's a first time for everything.

“You still love me without my hair?” his voice hoarse and barely even a shell of his usual bravado.

“Your looks have nothing to do with the way I feel about you.” Steve smiles _affectionately_ and _lovingly_.

Another first. Someone willing to love Billy when his charming looks have been tarnished, and his badass reputation destroyed, no doubt.

But maybe times are changing. Maybe there won't be a need for that crude wall to be up anymore.

“Come on,” Steve whispers, “let's get you to the nurses office with that hand, and then we can... do whatever you want.”

They stand up together, and Steve gently wipes Billy's face clean of tears and sorrow.

“Sorry about your shirt...” Billy mumbles and brings his not-bloody hand to touch at the stained fabric.

“It's okay.” Steve takes the hand into his own and kisses the back of it. “I'll just buy a new one, it doesn't matter.”

And he doesn't let go of that hand ever again.


End file.
